


Change of Heart

by memyselfanddemonicknives



Category: True Colors - Fandom
Genre: Colorguild - Freeform, Gen, OCs - Freeform, Second Person, True Colors, character violence, webcomic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memyselfanddemonicknives/pseuds/memyselfanddemonicknives
Summary: A one-shot for an OC of the webcomic True Colors, otherwise known as The Colorguild.





	Change of Heart

You lay quietly in the bunk of your quarters, taking in all that has just happened. You fought against one of the strongest soldiers your section of the force had, and you just gave up. You gave up, just like the rest of them did. You thought you could beat him, but the universe clearly had other plans.

You look at your hands, expecting to find a few cuts and scrapes, but they are covered from fingertip to palm with ruby red. Even worse, you know it’s your blood. The blood you shed from fighting a battle you couldn’t win. You gave up when you thought you were one of the most determined, but he was one of the most powerful. Besides, if the war didn’t kill you, he would have in the fight if you didn’t give up when you did.

You wonder how your brother is doing. You know, your monster brother. And your monster family. And your monster home. You wonder how they are living without you. You figure they realized their world would go on without you, and yours went on without them.

As you rest, you can’t help but miss them.

The person you used to be is dead, and you don’t want it a part of you anymore. You used to be someone entirely different before you were drafted by the guild. You never liked it much here, and you never wanted out of here more than you do now.

You take out one of your knives, one of the ones specifically from the mess hall, and glare at its blade without a second thought. It always intrigued you, the way it glinted in any light shown through. At least you can see the sun again, but it isn’t worth it to see it without your brother.

You stand up from your bunk, which was now covered in the new rusty, crumbled, dried up bloodstain. At least the bleeding stopped. You take off your old ripped up sweater and other garments and replace it for something you were given the minute you arrived: a soldier’s uniform. You place those on, tears stinging at your eyes as you refuse to take the locket off. The locket, the very one your brother gave you. It hasn’t left your being since you got here. It’s rusted a bit over, since you forget to take it off when you enter the showers sometimes. That’s never bothered you before.

The clothes you doffed are now sitting on the messy bed, shredded and bloodstained. You grab them and hold them tightly close, giving your brother, your family, and your home one last hug before you tuck the clothes into a safe place.

You didn’t even bother to wash them.

You start to talk out of the quarters a changed human. You head to the camp’s infirmary and go immediately for the cabinets, grabbing all of the things you’d need. Wiping the grimmy black substance leaking from your rarely opened eye, you now close it and cover it in two or three gauze pads. You wrap it up neatly with some ace bandages and adhesive tape, then place all of the remaining supplies back in the cabinets.

Finally, after all of that, you slow down. You slow down to a stop for the first time since you got up. You find yourself in front of a mirror, looking yourself over.

You are a completely different person.

The only thing that runs in your mind is “You are dead. Your old self is dead.”

“Korra is dead.”

Of course, you avoid saying anything out loud. That would put a shamble on things. You finally head out of the infirmary, still taking in the news that the...other one, became commander instead of the one you fought. There wasn’t even a competition, but you knew that he wouldn’t go down without a fight. You shamble into the base grounds, taking a walk as a changed person. You actually seem pretty positive, even with a straight face.

Something stops you dead in your tracks. And you aren’t happy.

You never were.


End file.
